


A SPIRIT OUT OF FADE

by Mikkeneko



Series: A SPIRIT OUT OF FADE [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: A Wizard Did It, Cats, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Crack, Guitar Solo, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4037821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkeneko/pseuds/Mikkeneko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ongoing adventures of the living incarnation of Justice, his co-pilot, and their boyfriend in the material world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The figure before them was a man, yet not a man. The air drew heavily about him with the tingling feel of a thunderstorm about to break, and an eerie luminescence surrounded his outline. The same blue aura glowed brightly out of his eyes, completely obscuring even a hint of iris and pupil, and as he moved cracks of white light shone brightly through his skin, as though straining to contain an uncontainable power.

“Do not be lulled into complacence by the comforts attending your tyranny,” the figure addressed his audience, his voice deep and resonant enough to shake the air before them. “The denial of freedom is always unjust, no matter what rationalizations are used to quiet their own guilt and suppress your voices. Rise up! Freedom is within your reach, if you can only stir yourselves to stand up and act. Submit no longer to the slavery imposed upon your kind! Strike back against your oppressors, and live your lives in freedom!”

The air thundered with that passionate denunciation. In response, a dozen pairs of shining slit-pupilled eyes watched him with unblinking fascination, nearly two dozen cats arranged in rows in the street. The glowing lights of Justice’s aura held them enthralled – well, all except for the one ragged tomcat in the back, who instead had one back leg in the air and devoted his attention to industriously cleaning his anus.

“I do not feel that they are taking me seriously,” Justice complained to his companion, Hawke.

“Yeah, that’s cats for you,” Hawke agreed. “I’m more of a dog person myself. Great debaters of civic philosophy, dogs are.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hawke woke alone in the bed, the other pillow cold to his touch when his hand flopped across to pat it. A glance at the window through the curtains showed it was still night, not long after midnight, but there was no sign of the mage who normally shared the room with him.

Groggily Hawke pulled himself out of bed and put on a robe, padding quietly down the stairs. As he turned into the hallway he saw one of the rooms beyond filled with a shifting, flickering blue-white light, and he groaned quietly.  _Maker, not this again,_  he thought to himself.

Poking his head through the doorway he saw a familiar silhouette facing away from the door, limned with a blue-white light. “Andraste’s little buzzing helpers, Justice, come back to bed,” Hawke grumbled.

“I cannot,” the spirit replied, keeping Anders’ eyes fixed forward on the screen while he typed furiously away at the keyboard in allcaps. “Someone is  **WRONG**  on the  **INTERNET**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I posted this on tumblr, a bunch of people tagged it with #modern AU. It's actually not, they're totally in Hawke's house in Kirkwall. They just happen to have a computer with an internet connection there. How? Who knows? They just do. The Veil is thin in Kirkwall okay. Anything could happen.
> 
> Now with bonus illustration:


	3. Chapter 3

“Justice.” Hawke squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Justice, no. Put him back where you found him.”

The spirit frowned at him, a truly forboding expression with the cracks of blue that shone from Anders’ skin and whited out his eyes. “I cannot,” he replied, his voice deep and echoing. “He is injured and underfed. And there was no sign of the mother. We must keep him. It would be unjust to leave him to die.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Hawke tried to put his foot down.

“Anders has a fondness for these infant felines,” Justice argued. “He has rescued them many times in the past. I see no reason why this should be an exception.”

“You can’t? I can think of two pretty compelling ones,” Hawke shot back. “One, we already have sixteen cats and two mabari warhounds in one house. We don’t have room –”

“Compassion is bottomless,” Justice said firmly. “As is justice.”

“ – and for two,  _that’s not a cat, that’s a mountain lion!”_  Hawke shouted.

“I fail to see the distinction.” Justice cradled the wild cub in his arms and tilted his head to one side, as if listening. “Anders concurs. He suggests the name  ‘Messere Om Nom’.”

Hawke buried his face in his hands. He hated it when he was outvoted.


	4. Chapter 4

Another day, another Hightown bust. Sometimes Hawke wondered if any of Kirkwall’s fancy people actually lived in any of these fancy houses, or if they were all being used as staging areas for slaver rings, maleficar cabals, or street gangs. “At this rate, I’ll be able to give everyone a house,” Hawke quipped, as he added another body to the pile in the middle of the fine rug. “Any takers? Varric? Aveline? It’s a nice place, aside from the scorch marks.”

Aveline snorted, and Varric laughed. “Thanks, Hawke, but I really wouldn’t trust you to broker real estate deals, considering that the last time you ended up with a controlling share in the Bone Pit.”

Justice had emerged near the end of the fight (well, pretty much any fight tended to end shortly after Justice emerged) and now stood in the middle of the room, haughty and oblivious to their banter as ever. He was surveying the room with his eerie, burning eyes, occasionally wandering over to touch seemingly insignificant objects. He stopped in front of a fireplace, where an fancily engraved stringed instrument sat leaning against the wall. “What is this?” Justice asked.

“That’s an Orlesian pandura,” Merrill helpfully supplied. “You use it to make music. You do know what music is, right?”

“Of course. Music makes up one of the integral essences of the Fade,” Justice replied. “It is contemptible that such foul villains of these should have such an instrument of beauty in their possession. They were not worthy of it.” He reached out and picked up the lute.

You could immediately mark who among the group had been subject to Anders’ execrable attempts at playing the lute before, by seeing who flinched and instinctively reached out to stop him. “No, wait, Justice don’t –” Hawke started to say, frantically reaching for some diplomatic way of talking the spirit down, before Justice’s blue-glowing hands settled into position on the strings and his burning eyes bent towards the soundboard.

The wave of music that rushed over them was indescribable, a throbbing cascade of notes all twined together around a driving beat that made their heart pound and took their breath away. It seemed impossible that such a noise could come from such a small instrument, as though a dozen wordless voices were raised in a triumphant choir.

There was no way to tell how long the music lasted, but it seemed like too soon when it stopped, the echoes faded away as Justice lifted his hands. “Adequate,” he said in his deep, disapproving voice. “The virginal at Vigil’s Keep was in much better tune.”

It was a mark of the effect the music had on them that nobody, not even Isabela, commented on 'virginal.' The companions stared at Justice in disbelief and something approaching awe. “Creators,” Merrill breathed. “Justice, that was… that was  _righteous._ ”

“Of course,” Justice replied. “Everything that I do is righteous.”

“No, I mean – that was  _sick_ , Justice!”

“I could consult Anders if you wish, but I do not believe the instrument requires healing.”

Looking at his blank, perfectly deadpan face, Hawke began to wonder for the first time if the spirit was trolling them.


End file.
